For The Kingdom
by GraceButYouCanCallMeGracie
Summary: QW13— Quinntana Week Day 4: Historical Time Period. AU. Slight Dom/sub moment. "Craving authority and dominance, and lacking such a thing in her regular life, Quinn often needed a way to release her frustrations, and Santana was more than willing to provide such a thing."


**For The Kingdom **

****(Sorry, I accidentally deleted this.)

Word Count: 3,091

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own Glee, and decides to spend my time writing Fanfiction instead of the actual show.

A/N: I don't know if this really counts, because there's no real historical background, and this is probably incredibly inaccurate, but I decided to write it anyway. Also, there's a Dom/sub type-scene in here, but it's not nearly as intense as I was planning, so I'm hoping it's okay. Sorry for any grammar/ spelling mistakes; I wrote this really quickly. Oh! And question: should I write a sequel? I kind of have one in my head of the reception or like, when Quinn's son is born. Anyway...

For Quinntana week day 4: Historical Time Period.

* * *

"Betrothed. By tomorrow?" Quinn inquired, shoving her incredulity and defiance to the back of her mind. Never argue. Never disobey.

"At noon. All the people of our dear kingdom will be there. The marriage of a century," Russell commanded, high and regal, from his throne. Quinn stood, small and stoic beside him, feeling empty and unsupported.

Russell took a look at his daughter and sighed. "I need a male heir, Lucy. You know I can't settle for anything less. If that means marrying off my only daughter, so that one day her son will be of royal blood, then so be it. The descendant will be related to me. And I'm not of a ripe age anymore. My years are numbered. The child needs to be born soon."

Quinn nodded. "Yes, father. I understand. To whom shall I be wed?" She asked, quietly.

"Finnick of Hudstonia," he announced, not even trying to hide his elation.

Quinn's shoulders slumped that much further. She was well acquainted with the king-to-be. He was tall and clumsy, and lacking in intelligence. Tolerable, but impossible to enjoy spending time with for the rest of their lives.

And Quinn didn't even want to entertain the fact that once she was married to the boy, she would have to live in his kingdom, and sit alongside him when his time came to rule. Part of this agreement, she assumed, was to secure both kingdoms. Her son would be a ruler of two lands.

But anything signifying her unhappiness was unacceptable. So Quinn straightened her shoulders and forced a smile upon her face. "Yes, father."

"Lucy. At least try to show some enthusiasm. Finnick is a fine boy, who no doubt would produce a handsome son," Russell told her.

Of course. Because Finnick is the one producing the child. Not the girl of whom's stomach, such a thing would be growing inside.

"A fine ruler, he will make, and a perfectly pleasant wife you will be," Russell exclaimed, his eyes hardened and focused on Quinn for the last half of his sentence.

Quinn swallowed at the strict gaze fixed upon her and the very thinly veiled threat. Grinning and bearing it, she gave a sharp nod. "You can expect nothing less."

* * *

"Married! By tomorrow? He has no right to spring such a thing on you, especially with anything less than a year's notice!" Santana ranted, pacing back and forth in front of Quinn's bed.

Santana had been Quinn's handmaid since birth. Raised to serve the blonde personally. They had grown up together, the concept of boundaries lost on them. Around age five came the realization of their difference in social status. Ten, Quinn's authority over the dark-skinned girl. Fourteen, the understanding of what they felt for each other going beyond friendship. Sixteen, a fully-developed relationship, hidden from the rest of the world, and an even better understand of Quinn's role in the kingdom, and the inevitability that the blonde would marry early; to someone who was not Santana.

"It's not as if I hadn't a lifetime of notice, Santana. I grew up with the boy. We played in the gardens every time our fathers would meet and discuss, which was not an infrequent event. You and I both knew that when the time came for me to be wed, that Finn would estimably be the man with whom I would," Quinn said, sitting prim and proper upon the bed.

"But no one said it would be so soon!" Santana griped.

"My father is of old age," Quinn replied.

"And you're young! Sixteen is much too young an age to get married!"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Please, Santana. My cousin was married off at thirteen. If anything, I'm lucky it took this long. Many girls are stripped of their freedom much younger than I."

Santana stared at the blonde, trying to maintain a mild temper. "Freedom," she spoke with venom. "In what kingdom are you an example of freedom? You spend all day at your father's beck and call, isolated and alone."

Quinn scoffed. "I am hardly alone. I am frequently visited by my extended family, including Brittany. Finn and Rachel are no strangers to this castle, and," she sighed. "I have you."

"But you never leave, Quinn. The land upon which you live, anything beyond castle grounds, has never been paid a visit. Surely you are restless. And now you'll be forced to prince Finnick, who will no doubt hold you under the same expectations. Doing what you're told, staying within reach. Used at his disposal. You will be useless once you bear him an heir. You don't think he'll get bored of you? That he will stop wanting you once he's found a new woman to fool around with?" Santana was shouting now. She didn't want Quinn hurt, used, unhappy. But most importantly she didn't want anyone else to have the blonde. To know her as intimately as she did.

Quinn stiffened the more Santana spoke. She was well aware of all of this, but she had to maintain positivity, control her own emotions as long as they belonged to her. Forcing away the tears that were attempting to betray her as her betrothal started to fully sink in, she gripped the comforter upon her bed and let Santana continue.

"No man is known for staying faithful. I've heard he's interested in Rachel. That if he had a choice, he would doubtlessly choose-"

"ENOUGH," Quinn demanded.

Santana halted her movement.

"That is _enough_," Quinn said, quieter but no less authoritative.

Santana looked into Quinn's eyes and immediately noticed the change.

Quinn needed control.

They maintained eye contact for a long moment, Quinn asking for permission, and Santana obliging whole-heartedly, despite her irritation on a matter that would inevitably change their lives.

Craving authority and dominance, and lacking such a thing in her regular life, Quinn often needed a way to release her frustrations, and Santana was more than willing to provide such a thing.

"On your knees," She commanded, softly.

Santana took the position immediately, arms behind her back, head down.

"This is an uncompromisable issue, Santana. Tomorrow, I will be married. You can be upset over the matter, but you cannot disrespect me," she told her handmaid.

Santana sat still, waiting for permission to speak. Quinn recognized this.

"Tell me if you understand, Santana." She said, running her fingers through soft, dark locks below her.

Santana closed her eyes at the sensation. "I understand, Mistress."

"Good." Quinn wrapped her fingers in the raven tendrils and gently pulled her head up to look at her. "I need you to stand."

Santana brought herself to her feet and looked into the eyes of the taller girl. Quinn found nothing but subservience in the shorter girl's eyes. She stepped around the dark-haired girl until she was behind her. Quinn brought her hands up to the string lacing the corset to Santana's dress. Santana was of such importance to Quinn that she didn't resemble a maid at all. Anyone who wasn't familiar with Quinn's handmaid would assume she was a friend of Quinn's of a wealthy family from the way she was dressed.

Quinn pulled one end of the string, undoing the tie. She carefully, slowly, unlaced the rest of it, letting the dress fall once it was undone. Santana stood, bare before the blonde, waiting for the next command.

Quinn sat on the bed and spread her legs, wordlessly telling Santana exactly what to do. Santana dropped to her knees, once again. She lifted the skirt of Quinn's regal baby blue dress, moving her chemise out of the way, and brought her lips to Quinn's dripping core.

Quinn let out a soft, constrained moan at Santana's touch. Santana licked all along her folds, collecting every drop of wetness. Quinn fisted her hands in the comforter, closing her eyes at the delicious sensations Santana was giving her. Santana brought her tongue up to Quinn's clit. She spelled out the blonde's name with the pink muscle before bringing it down to her entrance.

Quinn's moans were getting louder now as Santana stroked her with her tongue, up and down. She continued to writhe and twitch as every movement brought her closer to her orgasm. When Santana's tongue entered her, Quinn let out a strangled groan, fisting her hands in her raven locks. Her back arched backward as Santana bobbed her head, rapidly entering and exiting the blonde.

"Oh, Santana," she moaned when she felt her orgasm quickly approaching. "I-I'm there... I'm going to-" Quinn cut herself off with a scream, her hips jerking violently into Santana's face as all of the tension in her body released, pleasurably, spreading throughout every fiber in her being. Stars exploded in her eyelids. Soft kitten licks from Santana bringing her down from her high caused her to twitch.

When she finally felt herself relax, Quinn chuckled. "Oh wow."

Santana pulled away with an accomplished grin, and Quinn smiled. Santana was adorable when she aimed to please.

Quinn stood back up on shaky legs, pulling Santana with her. She pulled her dress and undergarments off, smirking when she noticed Santana practically salivating at the sight.

"Go over there and stand with your hands against the wall, legs spread apart."

"Yes, mistress," Santana acquiesced, taking the position and breathing heavily from arousal as she rested her head against the wall. The room was silent for a moment, before she felt slender arms wrap around her waist. She moaned as one hand moved up to her breast, massaging it, the other slipping lower. Both girls moaned at the abundance of wetness below the small patch of curls.

"Santana, you're so wet. Tell how aroused you are," Quinn told her.

Santana could only moan in response as Quinn's fingers circled her clit. The jolts of pleasure traveling through her core were fogging her brain.

A slap to her center and a pinch of her nipple were a shock to her system.

"Answer me," Quinn demanded, biting her earlobe.

"I-I'm really excited, Qui-Mistress! So excited. So, so wet for you... Only f-for you," she groaned.

"Good," Quinn was pleased. She entered Santana immediately with two fingers. Her handmaid cried out in pleasure, her fingernails scraping the wall as she gripped for purchase.

Quinn pumped in and out of the Latina with fervor, closing her eyes at the sounds of Santana's screams and moans of pleasure. Not wanting to be left out, she pulled out immediately. Santana let out a miserable whimper at the feeling of emptiness.

"Turn around."

Quinn watched her handmaid slowly turn herself around, leaning back against the wall as her chest heaved, her breathing labored. Quinn pressed a hand against Santana's lower back for leverage, looking into her eyes as she re-entered her, slamming into her more quickly now. She pressed her forehead against Santana's desperately maintaining eye contact.

"Put your fingers inside me."

Santana nodded frantically against Quinn's head, running a hand down between their bodies and sliding two fingers into the blonde. Quinn whimpered at the feeling, pulling Santana closer, so that their bodies were flush against one another.

Quinn pulled out and entered Santana again with three fingers; the dark-skinned girl mirroring her. They jackhammered into each other, their moans mixing together, as their orgasms were rapidly approaching.

When their climaxes hit, both girls let out loud screams, ecstasy coursing through their veins. They jerked and writhed against each other, wave after wave of intense white heat rolling through their bodies. Quinn pressed her lips to Santana's, swallowing every moan and whimper, soaking in the essence of her best friend, lover, girlfriend, their hips slowing.

When their orgasms subsided, Quinn pulled away, and rested her forehead back against Santana's breathing heavily. "Thank you," she breathed.

"Any time," Santana promised. She looked into Quinn's eyes. "Would you like me to draw you a bath?"

Quinn smiled. "As long as you'll join me."

"Of course," Santana said, mirroring the blonde's smile.

Quinn released her handmaid and watched her travel to Quinn's washroom. The blonde licked her lips as she watched Santana's ass away back and forth.

Quinn fell back against the wall, the reality of how different her world would be tomorrow truly hitting her. How casually her father had mentioned it. How hard it will be to adjust.

Finn was a great friend, but a husband? Being with anyone other than Santana? Intimately or romantically? And she would have to leave her whole world. Her mother, her friends in the castle. Would Finn let her leave? Visit Rachel and Britt? Would be force her to submit? Unwillingly be in a position that Santana lovingly accepts for her? Would she still be able to have Santana as a handmaid? Surely he'd let her choose who takes care of her... Right?

Quinn shoved all of her questions and wonderings to the side. Being alone with her thoughts was a scary thing, and she didn't even want to start thinking about what would happen if she could never see Santana again.

Santana appeared in the doorway to the washroom. "Your bath is ready."

Quinn nodded and followed Santana into the bathroom. Santana slid into the tub first, Quinn following, sitting between the brunette's legs. Santana placed her hands on Quinn's stomach, and Quinn placed her hands over Santana's, closing her eyes. Both girls sat in a comfortable silence for a long moment, soaking in each other's presence and comfort.

Santana was the first to break the silence. "I'm sorry," she grumbled, apologies being something that Quinn was trying to work on with her. "I don't think Maiden Rachel is more attractive, or desirable than you are, and Prince Finnick would be a fool to choose her over you... I just... I don't think he cares about you as much as I do."

Quinn smiled, eyes closed, while Santana spoke, knowing how hard it was for her to express her feelings. She squeezed Santana's hands at the end of her thought.

"I understand. And I know your disrespect was unintended, and I do appreciate you letting me handle it," Quinn spoke. "But it is fruitless to assume that complaining will change anything, or that anything can be changed. We've known this for a long time, Santana. Now it is time to face the music; deal with what has been a long time coming."

Santana nodded, placing her head on Quinn's shoulder. "I'm just scared, Quinn. What's to happen once the wedding is over? Tomorrow at noon," she mused.

Quinn nodded, feeling tears well up in her eyes, her strong facade starting to crack. "Santana, what if... If..."

Santana squeezed Quinn tighter, bringing her closer to her body.

"What if you can't come with me?" Quinn finally choked out. "I don't want to lose you."

Santana sighed and placed her head on Quinn's shoulder. "I honestly don't know, Quinn."

"I don't think I'd ever truly have enough time to prepare... But only having a day to say goodbye..."

It was finally, truly sinking in for the both of them. This may be their last time they have together. It is very likely the last time they would be intimate.

Listening to Quinn crying softly brought tears down Santana's own cheeks. She was about to lose someone she grew up with, fell in love with, shared everything with.

Quinn was her everything.

"I love you, Quinn. More than anything else in the world."

"I love you too, Santana. So, so much."

The rest of their evening was spent memorizing each other's bodies, savoring every kiss, committing every action, every feeling to memory. Declarations of love were whispered and cried out. They were brought to the edge time and time again, each time more heartfelt, more passionate than the last; each time bringing the reality closer and closer. Sleep did not cometo them, both girls pressed tightly against one another in Quinn's large bed, letting silent tears come as they waited for the morning.

* * *

"Do you, Finnick of Hudstonia, heir to the throne, take Lucy Quinn, Princess of Fabrasia, to be your lawfully wedded wife?" The priest asked Quinn's husband-to-be.

"I do," the tall boy smiled a charming half smile.

"And do you, Lucy Quinn of Fabrasia, take Prince Finnick of Hudstonia to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The priest asked Quinn.

Quinn looked to Finn, who seemed truly excited to be marrying her, to be marrying one of his closest friends. He stared at her, smiling, waiting for an answer.

Quinn looked to Rachel, one of her dearest friends, and one of her bridesmaids. The loud, expressive little diva seemed truly happy to be at the wedding, but Quinn could see the underlying sadness, knowing Rachel was more than fond of the boy. This thought made Quinn feel guilty. She was unwillingly marrying a man that her best friend would give the world to wed.

Quinn looked to Brittany, who smiled, her usual obliviousness replaced with utter knowing of how utterly tragic this whole event was. Quinn knew that Brittany knew about her relationship with Santana, but that the taller blonde didn't want to intrude; wanted to let them live in their own little bubble.

Quinn looked to her father, sitting high above them, a balcony only for him, overlooking the wedding ceremony. His eyes were calculating, watching her every move, knowing she knew exactly what he expected, knowing she knew the consequences of her refusal.

Quinn looked to the people of Fabrasia, or, at least, the wealthy ones. Dressed in their finest clothing, attending a wedding that would lead to a shift in the whole kingdom. Whatever she did would affect them. When she bore an heir, these men and women were whom he would rule. This was as much their wedding as it was her's.

Finally, Quinn looked over the priest's shoulder to her handmaid, standing next to one of Finn's servants. She was stiff and poised, eyes fixed on Quinn's. This was who this wedding was affecting the most. Quinn and Santana's lives would experience the biggest change, regardless of what came next. Things would never be the same, she might never see the woman she loves again. Saying yes would ruin their relationship; Saying yes might separate them forever. They gazed into each other's eyes, conveying everything. How much they loved the other, cherished the other, adored, cared for, needed.

Quinn took a final deep breath. Breaking eye contact with Santana felt like her heart breaking. She looked into Finn's eyes, feeling the weight of her decision crushing her every fiber.

"I do."


End file.
